


keep you guessing

by slyther_ing



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Hogwarts Era, Library Sex, M/M, Oliver is a tease tbh, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, cept they're still cute, well more like library blowjob
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-14
Updated: 2017-03-14
Packaged: 2018-10-04 22:58:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10292147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slyther_ing/pseuds/slyther_ing
Summary: The one time Marcus actuallyplanson studying in the library, Oliver has other ideas.





	

There’s a five-minute interval between when Oliver slides his foot up Marcus’ leg and when Marcus drags him back to the Muggle Studies section of the library. In those five minutes, Marcus manages to go through about ten different emotions, which is saying something, because he usually resigns himself to around two. 

There’s the momentary flashes of panic (“Fuck, Wood, here?”) and then arousal (“ _Naughty_ , nice.”). Some disbelief tied in when he catches Oliver’s eye and his boyfriend just winks. It’s bad enough that they’re sitting at a table together in the library, reason enough for rumors – another to end up caught with Wood’s foot on his fucking _crotch._

Half-hard crotch.

Oliver grins over his textbook. Not even a smirk of any kind, just an easy-going grin that Marcus has, Salazar bless his soul, become enamored with.

He settles on disgruntled. He’s not going to be the one played with, not right now. Marcus shoves his own essay away, then stands abruptly and heads back towards the Muggle Studies sections. It’s a Wednesday, and there’s never anyone there in those areas, besides the odd half-blood or muggleborns laughing over the textbooks, for whatever reason Marcus has never understood.

Oliver doesn’t look too fazed, following casually behind him – as casual as he can get, because Oliver has never been good at acting or pretending to be anything he’s not.

“Cave easy, huh, Flint?” Wood shoots at him, arms crossed and still grinning.

“Shut up,” Marcus replies, and surges forward to wipe the grin off of Oliver’s face. Their mouths collide a little too harshly, teeth knocking into each other but Oliver is laughing against his lips, sighing easily when Marcus runs eager fingers over his jaw. “Bloody fucking tease.”

Oliver rumbles in contentment. “Potions is boring. This is more fun.”

“Yeah?”

Wood’s eyes glitter in the dimmer light of the library. “’Course.”

Marcus reclaims Oliver’s mouth, likes the way Wood nips at his bottom lip, giving as good as he’s getting. He’s almost fully hard in his slacks now, and when he presses in just the slightest bit more, can feel Oliver against his hip as well. Oliver moans slowly as Marcus grinds against him, quickly shoving a fist against his mouth to keep quiet.

“Gotta be quiet, Wood. Think you can do that?” Marcus snickers, even though he can feel his own groan building in his throat as Oliver mouths at his neck in retaliation.

Oliver rolls his eyes, one hand on his belt, the other nudging Marcus on the shoulder to go lower. “You think pretty highly of yourself, don’t you?”

Arousal flares at the pit of Marcus’ stomach. Merlin, he loves this game.

There’s a joke, maybe an allegory, in there somewhere, in how easy he falls to his knees in front of Wood, but the fact of the matter is that Marcus just loves watching Oliver come undone while he’s getting his cock sucked. Makes the sweetest sounds, lashes all aflutter, color high on his cheeks. There’s always the dizzying rush to his head that _he’s_ the one making Oliver feel all these things. Nobody else.

He meets Oliver’s expectant gaze. Then shoves Oliver’s hand out of the way and undoes the belt and zipper by himself, ignoring Oliver’s soft chuckle. Marcus has stopped caring, at this point, because he knows the moment he mouths Oliver through the fabric of his briefs, he’s going to earn a very content moan.

Except Wood’s apparently gone sans underwear today, and Marcus raises an eyebrow. “Did you plan this?”

Oliver doesn’t grace him with an answer, merely shoves Marcus’ head forward into his crotch.

Fucking bossy bastard.

Wood’s cock juts out, fully hard and Marcus takes his sweet time ghosting his fingers over it, retaliation for being so goddamn bossy. He’ll never admit that there’s a small part of him that enjoys Oliver like this.

“C’mon, Flint, we don’t have all day,” Oliver whispers, eyes darting towards the end of the shelves. Marcus merely strokes once, Oliver’s cock loose on his fist. Wood’s hips jerk forward of their own accord.

Then he swallows as much of Oliver’s cock as he can in one go, and Oliver’s head hits the bookcase, groan issuing from his lips.

Marcus pulls off quickly, much to Oliver’s very apparent annoyance. “Have to be quiet, Wood.” He ignores the throbbing of his own cock for the time being, because playing with Oliver like this is just too fucking fun.

“Put your mouth to use,” Oliver hisses, and Marcus obliges, presses kitten licks over the head of Oliver’s cock, tonguing the slit where he knows Oliver’s sensitive. Oliver’s thigh twitches where Marcus is resting his hands, and when he glances up, he realizes Oliver’s got his fist back between his teeth.

Someone shuffles in the book shelves a couple feet forward, and Marcus thinks that the chances of getting caught are higher than how he flew in the match against Hufflepuff, but Oliver urges him on with another nudge against his jaw.

Fine then – _he’s_ not going to be the one broadcasting his moans to the entire Hogwarts library.

He swallows Oliver’s cock into his mouth, relishing the way Oliver’s eyes close in pleasure, moves forward slowly, tonguing the sensitive vein along the underside. When he sucks gently, Oliver’s short gasp flits down to meet his ears.

Marcus would smirk, if his mouth wasn’t busy right now.

He grips Oliver’s thighs firmly, swallows down until his nose reaches the base of Oliver’s cock, then moans lightly, knowing the vibrations will drive Oliver crazy. Oliver’s hips try to jerk but Marcus’ hold is tight enough that it doesn’t end up choking him.

There’s just something – heady – about it all – the weight of Oliver’s cock in his mouth, the bare line of Oliver’s throat as his head tilts back, the way his saliva is collecting in the corner of his mouth as he moves – Marcus isn’t going to let anyone know, fucking hell, but he could do this all day. His cock's pressed up painfully against the fly of his trousers and he darts a hand down, presses hard to get some relief.

He twists the base like he knows Oliver likes, and sucks harder, hollowing his cheeks. Swipes his tongue back over the head, pressing right on the sensitive spot right under the head of Oliver’s cock and that – that causes the soft sounds Oliver’s muffling with his fist to turn into short whines.

He does it again, and again, until Oliver’s cock is leaking precum and he’s rocking forward, smearing it all over Marcus’ lips. Oliver’s eyes are blown, bottom lip bitten red from keeping quiet, and his stare sends heat traveling all over Marcus’ body, only to center at his crotch.

“C’mon,” Oliver says hoarsely, “Fuck, Flint, keep going, please.” His plea ends in a whine as Marcus takes the head of his cock back into his mouth, suckling on it. Oliver doesn’t muffle the sound fast enough and it seems to ring loud in their section of the library.

“Fuck, Wood,” Marcus hisses, but Oliver’s tugging him forward by his hair and fuck, the pain shoots straight to his cock. He takes Oliver back into his mouth, messy and eager, wanting to get Oliver to come apart under his fingertips.

Wants to feel the shudder in his frame when his boyfriend comes. He grazes his teeth lightly on Oliver’s length, earns another choked off whimper and then devotes himself to taking Oliver all down his throat, until every swallow has Oliver gasping in pleasure.

“Yes,” Oliver hisses, irises dark and cheeks pink, and Marcus sucks harder, wants another sharp pull on his hair. He’s rewarded with another tug, sets off another moan, makes Oliver writhe under his fingers.

Oliver’s grip in his hair is tight, urging him on, and Marcus releases his hold on Oliver’s hip and relaxes his jaw, lets Oliver fuck and rut into his mouth with eager thrusts. The wet sounds are loud in Marcus’ ear and Merlin, if someone were to walk in on them – see Marcus, hard, and on his knees, spit and slick smeared all over his mouth, Oliver desperate like this – he palms himself through his trousers, swallows a moan of his own at the thought of it all.

Marcus reaches down, rolls Oliver’s balls in his palm, and that tips Oliver over the edge –Oliver’s body goes taught, back arched and head knocking against the bookcase as he comes.

He barely registers the sound of footsteps coming closer- how could he, when Oliver’s shuddering under his touch and spilling into his mouth, Wood’s lips parted in a silent ‘o’ of pleasure.

Panic creeps up his spine, but so does arousal and fuck – fuck, he’s going to come in his pants without being touched if Oliver keeps looking like that, all slack jawed and eyes fluttered shut, the heavy taste of Oliver’s release in his mouth and the thought of someone _seeing_ them.

The footsteps fade away as quickly as they appeared, and the panic subsides, leaving Marcus with just a painfully hard cock still leaking in his trousers. He swallows thickly, licks over his lips and feels how swollen they are. He’s faintly aware of Oliver’s heated gaze on his mouth.

“Not going to reciprocate?” Marcus says, voice hoarse and Oliver’s eyes glitter with amusement.

“I’ll do you one better.” Oliver reaches down, tugs Marcus up, jelly-legged, by his collar, presses his lips firm against Marcus’ own, and Marcus chokes on his moan as Oliver grinds his thigh against his cock.

It’s too much after being on the edge, and Marcus feels himself about to come – except then Oliver takes that glorious friction away. He lets out a whine of frustration before he can help himself.

“Ten minutes. Prefect’s bath,” Oliver murmurs, breath hot against Marcus’ ear. “Don’t be late.”

Oliver pulls back, taking his body heat with him, and straightens himself out with a well-practiced charm. Marcus watches in disbelief as Wood grins, and darts back out to their table, leaving Marcus hard and wanting.

His boyfriend’s a fucking menace.

(But Merlin, if it isn’t all worth it.)

**Author's Note:**

> prompted by [marcusflintwood](http://marcusflintwood.tumblr.com) who's always a well of inspo tbh
> 
> thank you for reading! hope you enjoyed flintwood n library escapades.


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